


With Dark Forebodings Too

by WrensAO3



Series: I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon. [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crazy!Dean, Crazy!Sam, Gen, PTSD, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrensAO3/pseuds/WrensAO3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean knows he’s only in a mental institution to hunt a monster, but it’s really hard to fight demons (alwaysfightingdemonscan’tstopfightingdemons) when the WALLS WON’T BLOODY WELL HOLD STILL. It’s hard to fight much of anything, he can’t even…</p>
<p>No.  Stop.  Don’t remember that.</p>
<p>Except Sam keeps trying to get him to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Dark Forebodings Too

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: First story contains non-con, and this story references that. Also contains PTSD. 
> 
> This is not a wincest story.

The walls hurt.  Dean curled up tighter and whimpered, pressing himself as far as he could into the corner,  _but of course that’s no good, the corner’s made of walls too, they’re everywhere, flashing like knifes and clanging like frying pans and closing your eyes won’t stop it you’re just making it easier for them stop it you gotta look at something just LOOK AT SOMETHING –_

Dean’s eyes snapped open and he gasped (hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath) but that’s no fair gotta hold his breath cause if he didn’t hold it tight it might  _fly away_ with the  _fucking walls_.  

This was worse than usual, some part of him knew that, some little teensy tiny, quiet-as-a-mouse, totally-ignorable part of his mind knew that, and kept the little thought to itself, but it leaked out anyway and began to trickle into the part of his brain that was soft and fuzzy and it made him wonder if his condition was worsening.  Maybe… maybe the walls didn’t normally hurt this much, didn’t normally slice at him like this.  He couldn’t remember.   _But that’s good yes not remembering good let’s keep on not remembering._ Something bad happened, but it wasn’t real as long as he didn’t remember it, right?  Because reality is a composite of what you perceive and what you believe and he was going to unperceive the fuck out of that thing that totally didn’t happen and it would just go POP out of existence like a little soap bubble, right?  The world spun sickeningly and Dean bit down another whimper, curling up tighter, forcing his eyes to stay open so the spins didn’t just swallow him up…

_“ … Dean?”_

Oh fuck, the walls knew his name.  Dean cringed away and realized that someone was kneeling in front of him.

_“Hey, Dean, it’s okay.  It’s me, Sam.”_

“ … S… Sam?… ”

The word pierced him, shot straight to the core of his mind and found a part of him that hadn’t been touched by  _the dizzy aching spin of the walls,_ a part of him that straightened up at the touch and said “brother.”  Dean blinked and tried the word out again, not wanting his lucidity to slip away.  “ … Sam.”

He could see his brother’s face clearly now.  Sam was smiling weakly, reaching a hand out to squeeze his shoulder.  “Yeah, Dean, it’s me.”

Dean froze when he felt those strong fingers clutching his arm.  He started shivering feverishly, some unplaceable dread stabbing through his mind,  _you’re curled up in a corner curled up in a corner spinning walls in a corner in a corner sitting someone says something when you’re sitting in a corner then hands hands hands grab your arm and – and –_

_“There you are, pretty boy.  Come on, up you come.”_

Dean shoved himself back against the wall hard, pressing a hand over his mouth  because his stomach was  _lurching_ like it was ready to just empty itself over  _every last one of those damn spinning walls._ The hand on his arm sprang away, and Dean let out a shuddering sob of relief.  That didn’t happen last time, the hand had just stayed put last time which meant  _this wasn’t last time_ and it wasn’t happening again,  _no no fuck no you’re not supposed to remember we’ve been over this no remembering fuck it hurts –_

_“Oh my god, D-Dean – ”_

_Keep your eyes open._ Dean blinked furiously, trying to keep Sam’s face in focus.  Right, that was Sam, brother Sam, hunter Sam,  _safe_ Sam – as long as he was with Sam everything was okay.

_“Can you hear me?  Are… are you all right?”_

Dean swallowed and held his head, trying to steady it.  Words were so hard, they hurt almost half as bad as the walls, maybe three fifths, no, that was more than half, fuck, Sam’s the one who was good with numbers…  Dean cleared his throat, fingers digging into his scalp.  “We’re… we’re hunting something,” he choked out.

Sam nodded eagerly.  His face was back in focus, and Dean stared at it so it wouldn’t disappear into a wave of walls again.  “Yeah, Dean, that’s right, we’re hunting a wraith.  Only… only it’s already got to us, made us both a little loopy.”  Sam looked him over, concern plain on his face.  “But god, Dean, you look  _way_ worse than me.  I mean, crayons are a lot more entertaining than I remember, and people who don’t exist keep trying to throw punches at me, they keep saying it’s all my fault… ”  Sam’s voice trailed off and he gave a weak laugh.  He sobered up quickly, starting to reach a hand towards Dean before stopping himself.  “You just look… god, Dean, you look like you’re barely hanging on.”

Dean grabbed Sam’s hand urgently, squeezing it hard because  _see he’s real you can’t take him away from me, my brother’s real._ “S-Sam, don’ go, ‘kay?”  Maybe if Sam stayed here it wouldn’t happen again, wouldn’t happen like  _he’d said it would happen again, said it would happen all the time said he was gonna do it again and again you can’t stop it oh god I don’t want it to happen again I don’t want to remember –_

“Dean,  _what’s_  going to happen again?”

Dean swallowed.   _How did Sam know?_ He didn’t want Sam to know… “I… no, no, I can’t, can’t remember.”

Sam licked his lips, returning the shaking clench of Dean’s hand with a squeeze of his own.  “Dean, you gotta try.  Was it the wraith?  Did you see something?”

Dean shook his head urgently, teeth worrying at his lower lip.  “No no no no, don’t wanna try.”   _I don’t wanna remember I don’t wanna remember oh god_

_DAISY CHAINS._

_“Hey, hey, Dean, stay with me!”_

A hand was on his face, cupping it,  _but not grabbing it so it was okay,_ and besides it was Sam,  _Sam,_ brother and hunter and safe, Sam wasn’t going to hurt him not ever.

Dean nodded to let Sam know he was here and present and accounted for, reaching up to cover his brother’s hand with his own.

“Dean, what don’t you want to happen again?”

He started shaking again.  “S-Sam, p-please, I can’t – ”

“Hey, sh, it’s okay.”  Sam stood up, still holding Dean’s hand.  “Let’s… let’s go to your room, okay?”  Sam licked his lips and glanced around anxiously.  “Cause there’s… there’s like a million people standing around and I’m  _pretty_ sure they’re not real, but if they are, we should, you know, not talk about monsters in front of them?”

_Monsters._ Gotta hunt ‘em, that’s what he does with Sam.  Dean nodded and let Sam pull him to his feet,  _even though being pulled to his feet is what happened LAST TIME._

When he was standing Dean grabbed Sam and hugged his brother close, burying his face in Sam’s neck, breathing in the smell of Sam because  _this isn’t like last time because Sam’s here._

“Whoa, Dean, it’s okay, I’m not leaving.”

Dean nodded and gave Sam one more squeeze before pulling back, panting slightly.  “Okay, let’s… let’s get away from your invisible people.”

“No, no, they’re like the opposite of invisible, cause they’re not real but I can see them – ”

They started walking through the halls, and it was the damnedest thing but holding Sam’s hand kept the walls  _almost_ in place, upright, connecting floor to ceiling, almost at right angles to each other.  Dean tried to just breathe deep so that the feeling of standing on a still, flat plane in a static box of other flat planes wouldn’t leave.  Sam would occasionally give death glares and muttered curses to empty spaces, but that was just fine, Sam could do whatever he wanted as long as he stuck around Dean.

They got back to Dean’s room primarily through Sam’s navigational skills and some trial and error.  Sam pulled the door shut and Dean sat down on the bed, _upright, sitting, not lying down, clothes on._   He felt the mattress dip as Sam sat next to him, then felt his brother’s hand settle over his again.

“ … Can you tell me now, Dean?”  Sam lowered his voice.  “Cause there are still people here but I figure they’ve  _gotta_ be fake because it’s your private room and all.”

Dean nodded, giving the room a quick glance.  “It’s empty,” he whispered back to Sam.

“Good.  Thought so.”  Sam cleared his throat, blinking a few times in an effort to concentrate.  “You… you were going to tell me something.”

“Forgetting is good, you should forget, that’s what I’ve been doing,” Dean stammered out quickly.  Sam snapped his fingers and Dean cringed at the noise.

“No, you said you didn’t want something to happen again.”

Dean shuddered hard.  “Nothing.  It’s nothing.”

“Dean – ”

“ _It’s nothing_.”

“Dean, you’re shaking – ”

“ _Sam fuck off it’s nothing._ ”

Sam flinched.  Dean pulled his legs up to his chest and shook, grabbing the fabric and twisting it anxiously,  _see pants good pants gonna keep wearing pants don’t take them off please no stop –_

_“Dean, uh – it’s okay, you don’t have to take your pants off… ”_

A phantom hand trailed up his thigh, or maybe it was a real one, maybe he was back on the  _table bed god no_ and he was strapped down with (daisy chains) and he was just imagining that he was free because he didn’t want to think about what was happening –

_“D-Dean, it’s okay, I’m here, oh god, Dean, don’t cry, it’s okay – ”_

Arms were wrapping around him, but they weren’t groping and they weren’t pinning and it was just a  _hug,_ like the ones he always shared with  _Sam._

_“Dean, come on, please, tell me what happened to you, let me help… ”_

Dean grabbed at Sam’s shirt until he figured out how to return the hug, pulling himself against Sam, anchoring himself.  “S-Sam, please, don’t… don’t make me talk about it… ”   _He said it had to be our little secret._

Sam stiffened against him, and Dean had the most peculiar sensation, like he could almost hear the voices shouting in  _Sam’s_  head.

“Dean,” Sam growled, “did someone hurt you?”

Dean shuddered, pulling away from the hug.  “I-I didn’t say that – ”

“No,  _she_ did,” Sam spat back, pointing at the empty air.  “And I’m pretty sure she’s not real but that doesn’t mean she’s wrong!  Did someone hurt you, Dean?  I’ll  _kill_ them.”

Dean shook his head, then held it, then stared at the mattress, he could feel hands on his body –   _No no no Sam’s here Sam means you’re safe, Sam can keep you safe._

“Dean,  _tell me_!”

When Dean flinched at the violence in Sam’s voice, Sam clenched his hands and looked away and took a slow, deep breath.

“I… I’m sorry, it’s… it’s all these people shouting at me, Dean, it’s not you…  Please, just tell me if someone hurt you so I can keep you safe.”

“You can’t,” Dean whispered, “we don’t hunt this kind of monster.”   _What kinds of monsters do you hunt, anyway?_

“You mean the wraith?  Of course we can hunt it.”

“No, no, he… was just a human, I think.”  Dean chewed his lip.  (Are you sure about that?)

“Wait, some guy hurt you?”

It took all of Dean’s effort to nod, and when he did a spike of pain shot through him, dizzy and sick and sour,  _stop it you’re about to admit it happened and then it really will have happened stop –_

Sam’s fists were clenching in the blankets.  “Dean.  Who was it.”

“D-dunno.  He works here, I think.  He said… ”  Dean was breathing hard.  His heart was pounding in his ears and his voice sounded weak and strange and like it came from someone else, and he was spinning…  “ … He said… I just needed a checkup… ”

He couldn’t see anything.  Walls.

W a l l s.

Pressing-up-against-his-face-until he-choked-on-them  _walls._

_“Dean!”_

Hands grabbing his shoulders, squeezing them, trying to snap him back to reality, but it wasn’t working it was too late the walls were spinning and hands were reaching out of the storm and grabbing him and the hands said “pretty boy.”

Dean whimpered and pushed at the hands, stomach twisting in panic when they wouldn’t move.  “S-stop, please – ”

The hands yanked away.  Dean doubled over and tried to catch his breath, almost sobbing, clutching at his stomach so it wouldn’t burst out of his body.

_“Dean… g-god, did someone… ”_

Dean shook his head and whined and buried his face in his knees, trying to shut out the world, but the world seeped in through his squeezed-shut eyes –

_“I’m gonna play with you all the time.”_

A hand grabbed his face and pulled it up out of his knees, and Dean would have been terrified if he hadn’t been staring straight into Sam’s face, unable to look anywhere else,  _and it’s okay because it’s Sam and Sam won’t let anyone hurt you._

Sam looked furious and terrified and like he might be sick, but he held Dean’s gaze, and took a few deep breaths, and finally forced out words.

“Dean… did… did someone rape you?”

(Daisy chains.)

The walls whirled and bit and tore and Dean felt like he was full of ice and poison instead of meat and he was shaking and struggling for air but Sam’s eyes were fixing him in place, holding him still, holding him steady, and with all of his strength Dean made himself  _nod_.

He could feel Sam’s hand shaking against his face and Dean quickly grabbed it with his own hand because  _no_ Sam needed to be steady Sam was the only thing holding  _him_  steady –

“Who.  Did.  It.”

Dean shook his head.  “Sam, please, I don’t know, couldn’t see him, there were walls everywhere – ”  Dean shuddered and bit his lip, squeezing Sam’s hand so he’d know it was real.  “Just – we need to get out of here, Sam, we need to – need to hunt the monster so we can get out of here.”

_What kind of monsters do you hunt, anyway?_

Through the spinning walls he could see Sam give a reluctant nod.  Then he was pulled into another rough hug, like Sam was afraid he was about to drift away, _which was entirely possible_.

“Can we just kill the wraith so we can leave?”  Dean’s voice was barely audible even to him, but he had to say it, they had to leave  _soon,_ before  _he got played with again –_

“Yeah, Dean, of course.”  Sam gave him a squeeze.  “I’m not gonna let it happen again, Dean, not gonna let you out of my sight.”

Dean nodded and closed his eyes, and for once the insides of his lids held no more than gentle darkness, and he tried to hang on to Sam and just believe him for a while and maybe even feel safe.

—-

Dean sipped at his coffee, staring out the motel window at the sunrise.  Cool air was wafting in, tugging at the thin, gauzy curtains.  

Sam was leaning back in one of the scratchy motel armchairs, a newspaper in his hand.  It rustled as he turned a page, and he murmured a “huh.”

Dean turned.  “Job?”

“No.”  Sam turned another page.  “Not our kind of thing.”

“Regular old death?”

Sam held his gaze.  “Just a pair of employees at a mental institution.  A woman was stabbed to death and a man was stabbed  _and_ beaten to death.”

Dean stared into his coffee.  “Huh.”

“Same night two patients went missing, no less.”

“Weird.”  Dean took a sip of his coffee.  “Don’t suppose they’ve got any leads?”

A hint of a smile twitched at the corner of Sam’s mouth.  “Nope.”

“Good.”  Dean took another sip of his coffee, staring back out the window.   _Two less monsters in the world._

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here; http://wrenseroticlibrary.tumblr.com/post/50252980398/with-dark-forebodings-too


End file.
